


Between the Bars

by KeganHorse



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, First story, Soulmates, Tattoo, be kind
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-04 14:50:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5338148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeganHorse/pseuds/KeganHorse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They came without warning, sudden and quiet and more often than not entirely unwanted. Surely they were a curse, the words of a stranger etched across one's skin in an unfamiliar hand. Words that sent the mind reeling in anxiety that would never truly ease until you heard them spoken and felt the slow burn as the letters changed color. They could appear at any time, from birth to death, and with them came the promise that, no matter how you may feel on the matter, your soul mate was out there somewhere, waiting for you.</p><p>Arya would have been glad to never see a single letter imprinted upon her skin, for though her father had promised to never force her into marriage, she knew she would not be able to keep her freedom if her parents were aware that there was someone out there made for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Words Wrapped Like Chains

They came without warning, sudden and quiet and more often than not entirely unwanted. Surely they were a curse, the words of a stranger etched across one's skin in an unfamiliar hand. Words that sent the mind reeling in anxiety that would never truly ease until you heard them spoken and felt the slow burn as the letters changed color. They could appear at any time, from birth to death, and with them came the promise that, no matter how you may feel on the matter, your soul mate was out there somewhere, waiting for you.

Robb's fate was sealed at birth. Heir to Winterfell, a Stark with the striking red-brown hair and blue eyes of a Tully with tiny, neat words marking the skin upon his chest. He had waited patiently for fifteen years until the Westerling's came to Winterfell. After only a week, Robb felt the slight ache in is chest as the words turned from black to a light, sandy brown.

Theon's words were harsh, unkind and printed neatly right at the base of his throat. They appeared shortly after he came to live with the Starks at the age of fourteen, and it had quickly become a family joke that the infamous _Bugger Off!_ would come from Arya. Eventually, the young she—wolf had had enough of her family's teasing, and while they supped in the Great Hall one night she stood before her entire family and countless smallfolk as she aimed her glare at the older boy and spoke those foul words upon his neck. Lady Catelyn had almost died of shock and fear while the rest of the room dissolved into raucous laughter, Theon showing off his still black words. It wasn't until a few years later, after Robb was married and Jon off to the wall, that Theon took Arya aside and confided in her that he had known who his soul mate was for years. His words were still black – and would always be black – because she was a member of a lesser house. Jeyne Poole, who didn't have her tattoo, who didn't love him yet. And so he just went right on being Theon until she did.

Jon was next, his words blossoming upon the skin of his right bicep only weeks after becoming a brother of the Night's Watch. As he came to know Ygritte, he waited impatiently, day after day, for her to say those words to him. He wondered what color a wildling's mark would be. Black like those from lesser houses or smallfolk, or perhaps white like the land and trees and sky and everything else north of the wall. But she never said them, and he never got to know.

Rickon only just recently woke to find his words, neatly written on his right forearm in a cursive so perfect it rivaled Sasnsa's. At only ten, he was still quite shy and yet incredibly wild. When he showed off his words, all the family could do was smile fondly. Shaggydog was the largest of all the direwolves, and it made sense that little Rickon would fall in love with a girl who asked  _What's his name?_ rather than “Does he bite?”

An entire month went by, Sansa moodier than usual over the fact that her wildling of a brother received his words before her. Sansa, with her romantic dreams of princes and knights and love, considers this among the most grievous of injustices. The only thing that could calm her was Jeyne reminding her over and over that Prince Joffrey was also still without a mark. 

Of course, soul mates mean very little to royalty. King Robert himself had never disclosed who his was, though it was well known that neither Lyanna Stark nor his wife, Queen Cersei spoke the words he had hidden away on his body. Marriage for them was about politics and not love, which Sansa hadn't truly acknowledged until the day the Stark family received an official invitation to the wedding of Prince Joffrey and Lady Margaery Tyrell. That morning was the last most of the family saw of her for nearly two weeks, as she had locked herself within her room and refused to let anyone enter other than her mother and Jeyne.

Arya couldn't hide the relief she felt, as the few times they had met had convinced her that the prince was a monster. For a while, it had seemed an inevitability that he and Sansa would wed, but thankfully he had found someone else to torment. Even though the rest of the family was tight-lipped when it came to expressing their misgivings about Joffrey, Arya was thankful that Theon at least would agree with her.

Sansa's fit hadn't even begun to quell when she woke to find her right wrist circled in black letters.  _I am no knight_ the words seemed to taunt her, taking her romanticized visions of love and thrusting them back into her face. All her years of waiting for the soul mate mark, hoping it would be the words of the prince or some other dashing man in shining armor, and here it was. She didn't cry anymore, but she didn't smile either.

The morning of the Stark's departure – all of them save for Robb, for there must always be a Stark in Winterfell – found Arya saddling her horse alongside the older Stark ward. Her mother had agreed to the breeches and riding so long as she promised to change into a proper gown before they reached the capital.

“How long you think until our Lady Margaery realizes not even being queen is worth being married to that little prick?” Theon asked quietly so as not to be overheard by Lord Stark, saddling his horse a little further down.

“I'm sure if she were only married to the little prick, she'd make do,” Arya smirked in response. “It's the boy it's attached to that's going to drive her mad.”

Theon barked out a laugh, quickly covering it with a cough when they noticed Arya's father glancing their way. The two quickly finished with their horses and mounted, taking their positions among the guards that would be escorting them to King's Landing. Ned, Bran and Rickon soon joined them while Catelyn, Sansa and Jeyne Poole rode in a carriage. 

It would be a long trek to the Red Keep, where most of them would remain for the next few months at least. Rickon would leave a month after the wedding, to become Renly Baratheon's squire at Storm's End. Arya couldn't help but be jealous that he would be able to leave so quickly. 

As the group marched out the gates of Winterfell, Arya tugged the hem of her left glove a little higher, thankful for the winter chill that mad them a necessity. She knew the capital would be warm, much too warm for long-sleeved dresses and yet that was all she packed. It couldn't be put off forever she knew, but she would hide the words that wrapped like chains around her left wrist – mirroring the ones that adorned her sister's right – for as long as she possibly could.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been reading a lot of Soulmate AUs lately, and so here is my take on it.
> 
> The characters have all been aged up a bit, Arya being about 14 with most of the others retaining the canon age gap except for Theon. Let's call him an even 20.


	2. Copper Armour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya's first few weeks in the capital are trying for a girl who longs for freedom, but there are a rather surprising number of bright spots to keep her going.

Arya shoved another bite of lemon cake into her mouth with as little grace and refinement as she could manage. She smirked, watching as Sansa bit her lip to keep from yelling at her in front of Lady Margaery and Lady Olenna, both of whom Arya swore were hiding smirks of their own behind their raised tea cups.

“Lady Arya,” Margaery spoke before Sansa could gather her words. “You are rather small and expend more energy in one day than even my brother Loras. I must send for more lemon cakes to be sure you are eating well enough while here in the capital. I cannot allow for you to go without.”

The future queen had ignored Arya's numerous pleas to refrain from referring to her as a lady, but by now the young wolf didn't mind. While never unkind, Margaery always spoke the word as though it were a joke, as though they both understood in the exact same manner how absurd it was to think Arya capable of such a title. And so Arya found herself returning the serene smile with more enthusiasm than she afforded almost anyone else in the Red Keep.

“Thank you, Lady Margaery,” Arya wiped the crumbs from her lips with the back of her hand the way she knew amused the woman and her grandmother. The way she knew would upset her sister even more. “You are a most gracious host. I'm sure you will make a wonderful queen.”

Arya spent the rest of the afternoon tea time gorging on sweets while only partially listening to the other women gossip. Talk of wedding dresses and which lords and ladies had already arrived and which ones had yet to arrive and all the various excuses they have given for their tardiness. The wedding was still a week away. Arya couldn't fathom how an entire week beforehand could be considered as late.

As the women walked back through the Keep, Margaery suggested they go overlook the training grounds, as her brother had arrived recently. Arya was more than eager to get a glimpse at the action, something she had been unable to do since her mother had strictly forbade her from joining in with her brothers and Theon.

Standing two stories above the men in the yard, Arya quickly spotted Ser Loras sparring lightly with her youngest brother. The boy was only nine, yet he was tall for his age. As tall as Arya, in fact. It seemed that everyone in the family was destined to reach the sky but her. Just like everyone was destined to be what they wished to be but her.

“Arya,” Lady Olenna called to her.

Arya turned to find that her sister and Margaery had already continued on and that she had been left standing alone on the balcony. She turned her eyes back to the older woman. While Margaery was smart and kind and undoubtedly worthy of her lot in life, Lady Olenna was rather interesting to Arya. The woman was wise, blunt and full of schemes, and Arya admired her very much.

“Come, child,” The older woman smiled rather sardonically, though Arya knew the scorn was not meant for her. “It does not do to dwell on that which is denied to you. You must find other things to want for in life.”

With one last peek into the yard – where she saw Bran and Theon circle each other, swords drawn and laughing – Arya turned away. She tugged the sleeve of her dress down to the center of her palm, happy for once that the few sewing lessons she had sat through provided her with the rather ingenious idea of ripping the seam to ensure the words on her wrist remained hidden.

Lady Olenna's words had rather unsettled her. Yes, there were things in life that she could not have, such as knighthood and freedom, but her soulmate mark reminded her that there were worse things that she could be wanting for. Simpler things that she often took for granted and yet knew she would be lost without.

As if she had sensed her sister's thoughts earlier, Sansa sat her brush down on the vanity later that night as they readied for bed, glancing at the younger girl in the mirror for a few long moments before she finally spoke.

“ _'I'm no knight,'”_ Sansa's words were only slightly tinged with bitterness as she spoke the words Arya had only heard once before through wracking sobs and hiccups. “What a statement to make you realize you're in love.”

Arya didn't respond, uncomfortable with where this line of thought was going.

“I had dreamed for years about what he would say,” Sansa continued, a wistful smile playing upon her lips. “About what kind of magical moment would lead me to finally understand the meaning of love. I guess, even if these words aren't exactly romantic, there's still a rather compelling mystery about them.”

At this, Sansa turned in her chair to look at her younger sister, still silently sitting upon the bed, gaze pinned on the wall as she fidgeted with her sleeve.

“You know,” Sansa stood and made to sit beside her sister and take the girl's hands in her own, letting out an unladylike snort when Arya jerked away as though she had been hurt. “It would have made more sense to rip the seams on both sleeves in order to keep your secret.”

Arya felt her eyes widen in surprise, but as she saw the rare teasing glint in the red head's eyes, she couldn't help the bubble of laughter that escaped from her lips.

Smiling, Sansa pulled a simple copper bracelet from the folds of her shift. The light caught on the band of metal as she twirled it slowly in her fingers.

“Mother gave this to me years ago,” Sansa said softly, running her fingers along it's unadorned surface. “After we first met Queen Cersei. She had been wearing so many fine pieces of jewelry and I cried and cried when she left, jealous of the southron ladies who were able to wear such beautiful things.”

Sansa reached for Arya's left hand and slowly slid the fabric away from her wrist, resting her hand atop the words to keep them hidden from sight. She slipped the cuff onto her sister's arm to replace her hand, squeezing gently to ensure that the metal adhered firmly to Arya's small wrist.

“I never thought it beautiful,” Sansa admittedly rather sadly. “I secretly thought it too plain when compared to the jewels worn by the Queen, so I never wore it. I'm sure mother noticed, but she never spoke of it.”

Pausing, Sansa squeezed Arya's left hand in both of hers. “But I was wrong. On a girl like you, with your dark hair and northern looks, it shines.”

Arya smiled warmly at the bracelet, twisting her wrist when her sister released it to watch the light glint off the copper. Surprisingly, it really was beautiful. A beautiful slip of metal to hide the mark she never asked for.

As her sister stood to continue readying herself for bed, Arya could barely hear the words Sansa haphazardly threw over her shoulder.

“It might not manage to draw any less attention to the fact you are hiding something, but at least it looks better than torn dress sleeves. Be sure to mend those, they make you look like a fool.”

Arya barked out a rather undignified laugh at that. Ignoring her sister's reproachful look, Arya threw herself under the covers.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a few people asked for more info about the soulmate tattoos. My basic idea was that the color changes based on who spoke the words - A person who's soulmate was a Stark would have their words change to a dark grey to match the Stark house colors. Robb's turns a sandy brown because that is the color for the Westerling house. Theon's don't change color at all because Jeyne isn't part of a major or minor house.
> 
> The words burn a little when the color changes, which happens when your soulmate says them. These words are the changing point, when one realizes that "yes, this is the person I love." Robb was impetuous in the novels, so it makes sense that his words change rather quickly after meeting his soulmate. They are not the first words, just the pivotal words.
> 
> Also, sorry for the super long delay. I am lazy and have never actually finished a longer piece of work. I hope this chapter is decent enough, for I do intend to finish this no matter what.


End file.
